


i got a hole in my heart (pretty baby)

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, dean makes fun of new jersey, dismemberment and desecration of a corpse, part of a broader au, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 15:53:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3453059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas share a romantic moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i got a hole in my heart (pretty baby)

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this a few years ago (jan 2013), lost it on my hard drive, and found it last night. i'm not as into spn as i used to be but oh boy this au still owns my heart. enjoy xo

This one had been easy. Blond with big, brown doe-eyes. Age 22, student at the local college, Starbucks card, bank card, two credit cards, and a dye-job that could only be the work of a very cheap hairdresser. Her face was pretty in an unremarkable, wall-flowery sort of way. Her nose was small and upturned, or at least it used to be, with a small diamond stud that matched the one through her left ear, and her other was lined with metal hoops.

She was short, too, much shorter than Dean. Short and wickedly curved. Like a porn star but squished, he’d joked, before Cas pulled the trigger.

“Alisha,” Cas reads, holding the driver’s license delicately, as if to avoid breaking it. “Alisha Rhodes. She’s from New Jersey.”

Dean laughs, and it rings loud and red through the room. “Damn, I never thought we’d get a chance to do the country a service like this! Freaking guidos.” He slides his hunting knife along her bicep, lifting a strip of fat and skin with it. “Is she making a duck face in the photo?”

“What’s a ‘duck face’?” Cas inquires, little quote marks almost tangible in the recycled air.

“It’s this weird thing chicks do with their lips when they take pictures for the internet. Like this, see?” Dean demonstrates with aplomb.

Cas’ eyebrow twitches up a millimetre. “I do not understand.”

“Eh, you don’t get shit.”

Cas tucks the card back into her wallet with a sigh. It’s a well-made accessory; though green leather and tiny appliquéd dogs are not to his taste, he supposes she must have likes it a great deal. It’s seen a lot of use. The red spaniel on the front has nearly ripped off of its base. Though, he reflects, that could have happened when they snatched her. “Do you think this would be worth keeping?”

Dean turns to him, startled. “What, the doggy wallet?”

“We could sell it.”

He laughs, loud and free. “No one’s gonna buy that piece of shit, Cas, c’mon. The only thing worth anything in there is maybe her credit cards. And, y’know, the cash.” He wipes at his forehead with his sleeve. It does more harm than good, smearing the fine blood droplets into a long, red streak across his face.

Cas feels himself start to smile back. The image of Dean with a doggy wallet of his own, striding into a bank with smears of blood across his face, is just so absurd that he almost laughs out loud. “You should use it.”

Dean smirks, and separates the girl’s right elbow joint with a loud pop. He steps back to admire his work. “Maybe we should keep it for Sammy. He likes dogs, right?”

Cas hums in agreement. Sometimes he thinks dogs are the only things Sam likes. He wouldn’t be surprised. Sam does not get along well with people; though he can smile and nod and make small talk, it’s not something he enjoys in the least. When he’s with dogs, though, he’s a whole new person. Cas thinks it might have something to do with his control issues.

“Hey, babe, you want a turn?” Dean offers, holding his knife out to Cas hilt-first. “Her arms are done, but there’s still the face and torso. I know you like the organs and shit, so I left them for you.”

Cas looks at him for a moment. “You remembered.”

Dean frowns. “Of course I did.”

Cas’ face lights up, and he takes the knife, brushing his fingers along Dean’s pulse point. “You know me better than anyone else, Dean.”

Dean smiles, and Cas sets to work.


End file.
